To My Parents

I’m sorry mom and dad
for all the time I had
to get my life,
to get my life
together,

but I didn’t.

[Verse one:]
1993: you gave birth to me,
sweet little baby girl, had the world at my feet
before I could even stand.
Cradled me in your right and your left hand,
a precious bundle of un-made plans,
hopes and dreams of bigger things,
a bright future,
so it seemed.
But that light grew a little less bright
as I grew up
and we began to fight:
when I was 13
I was so damn mean,
running away, had nothing more to say
than ‟I hate you!”.
But that’s not true now.
I just don’t, I just don’t,
I just don’t know how
to say

I’m sorry mom and dad
for all the time I had
to get my life,
to get my life
together,

but I didn’t.

[Verse two:]
You never talk about me to your friends
because you must be so embarrassed:
I dropped out of college without any plans,
moved back home, I couldn’t even pay rent,
I was living on your couch
trying to figure it out,
cutting myself up
and tearing myself down.

I’m sorry mom and dad
for all the time I had
to get my life,
to get my life
together,

but I didn’t.

[Bridge:]
I’m sorry that I couldn’t buy you
that house upon the hill,
or take care of all your medical bills.
I know I didn’t make you proud,
I should’ve been someone by now,
but I never figured out how.
(x2)